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“Uh. Well, the stake was the last hope,” Dean says. The piece of wood is sticking out of a unnaturally large man’s chest, and the only show of emotion he's making is a smile on his face. What the hell? Dean thinks.
Sam has the Colt in his hands.
“Sam! I told you! It’s not gonna do anything.”
Sam, ignoring Dean's comment, pulls the trigger. The shot is true; it hits the man in his heart. His smile turns into a sickening grin as he steps forward. The bullet flies out of his chest and heads back at the two brothers. The man turns, turns his head to the sky, and disappears.
“Shit- Sam! I told you–” Dean says, as he leaps in front of Sam. Time seems to slow, as the older brother blocks the younger one from death. He barely sees the bullet, flying towards him.
It finds its resting place in his chest.
Dean falls to the ground, blood staining his shirt.
“Hey, Sam, any idea how to get these stains out?” Dean manages a chuckle.
“Dean… I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have… I…”
“Dude, calm down…” Dean coughs and his mouth fills with blood. Crap, not good.
“Dean, don't you dare tell me to calm down. You just got shot, and I don’t know if you’re gonna…”
“Gonna what, bitch?”
“If you’re gonna die, Dean! It’s my dumbass fault that we’re in this situation, and it’s my fault that you’re gonna die. I know that we’ve been through a lot of this whole death thing, and it hasn’t really… well… been kind to us. But that doesn’t mean that we know what it’s like to die. I don’t know what it’s gonna be like to live without you, knowing that I can’t talk to you. And you know what? I don’t want to know what it’s like. I don’t want you to go, jerk!”
“Sammy…”
Dean begins to cough and he gasps for air. Blood falls from his lips, making a path down his chin and staining his shirt further. He looks up at Sam, his vision starting to blur.
“Dean? I’m right here – just try – try to keep your eyes open.”
Dean feels a tear of Sam's fall on his face. And Dean looks at Sam, knowing this will be the last time he will consciously have contact with his little brother, the person who means most to him in this world. He smiles and mutters,
“Hey, man, no tears. You can carry on…”
Without me.
And then, everything fades from Dean's sight. His brother, the trees, and the sky. Now, he is surrounded by darkness, and his final thoughts escape his mind before he falls into unconsciousness.
It seems as if hours have passed, when Dean finally awakes—in pure light. His eyes adjust quickly and he looks around, in the same clearing that him and Sam were in before Dean died…
Wait. Did I… Die?
Dean turns around and sees Sam on the ground next to his body. Tears are streaming down his face, spilling onto the cold ground, frost starting to form on the yellowing blades of grass. He looks changed. He looks a thousand years older.
“Sam, can you hear me? SAM!”
Sam reaches up and takes the necklace off Dean's body and puts it in his pocket. He gets up off the ground and reaches for the shovel. He starts digging.
Dean stand there watching him, until Sam places the final pile of dirt on Dean's final resting place. Sam walks to the Impala, his now, and he takes a bottle of Dean's favourite beer from the case inside the trunk. And he puts his hand into his pocket and pulls out Dean's necklace.
“Sam! Dammit, listen to me!”
He walks up to the freshly turned soil and places the beer and necklace on a rock… Dean's tombstone.
“Can’t you see me? ” Dean yells, knowing that he won’t get a reply. He falls to his knees. He can't just leave his little brother like this.
“Hey! Assbutt! He can’t see you.”
Dean gasps and turns.
“Cas?”
Looking at Castiel, Dean feels like this is the first time he's ever… looked at him.
Pure white wings, feathers fluttering in the breeze, are on either side of the angel's shoulder blades.
“Jeez, Cas, when did you decide to become a textbook angel?”
“Dean, this is serious. You’re… not alive.”
“And you think I don’t know that? Is this really… it?”
Castiel steps forward and reaches his hand out, heading for Dean's, but decides at last moment to give up. His arm falls back into place on the sides of his body.
“Dean… I can tell you everything. There will be no more secrets. You deserve to know.”
“Wait – what? Secrets? Lucifer is gone, and so are most of the angels. Cas, there are only three of you left.”
“I think you mean four.”
“Four? Cas, I may not be that good at math, but I do know how to count.”
“I guess it’s time you started counting yourself.”
Dean's eyes widen in shock. “Cas, this isn’t the time for joking. I’m dead, dying, whatever the hell is going on. I don’t even know anymore. My brother just buried my body and you’re telling me… I’m an angel?”
“That is what I am telling you, yes.”
“… Cas. Come on. Seriously?”
“Dean. Just look over your shoulder.”
He turns his head and his face is immediately pressed against something very soft and light.
“What the…?” He says, completely and utterly confused. Dean doesn't actually feel anything on his back… but he can see them. On his back are two wings, coloured light grey. At the ends there are black spots.
I swear to God I see an aura around them. A friggin’ aura.
“Cas, what the hell is going on?”
“I have been waiting for you, Dean. I have been waiting for a long time.”
“Waiting? Waiting for what exactly?”
“Come, and I will show you,” he says, a smile spreading across his face, “I want to show you something.”
He walks closer to Dean and puts his face close to the hunter's.
“Cas… don’t you remember what I said about personal space?”
“Of course I do, Dean. But truthfully, I do not care.”
And he presses his lips against Dean's and grasps his hand.
It feels right.